Painting Lessons the rewrite
by outoftuneguitar
Summary: Claire, being the starving artist she is, decides to move to Mineral Town after she finds an ad in the paper for a farm. She figured that farming would be easy and it would provide some quick cash. But she was wrong. Just wait till she meets Gray!
1. Chapter 1

**Ah, the long awaited rewrite.**

**Disclaimer: Do you really think I would own any part of Harvest Moon? I think not.**

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**Painting Lessons - the rewrite**

**a Graire story**

**Chapter One: I'm A Little Bitter**

The year after I graduated was supposed to be different. I was supposed to get a great job as an auto mechanic and find a really nice apartment with a reasonable rent. I was supposed to save up some money to go visit my sister, Jill, in the country. And I was supposed to get recognized as an amazing artist and earn thousands for just one painting. But instead I got fired from a well paying job at a local garage because I was late one to many times, spent all my money on cigarettes, and moved into a smaller, crappier apartment with a great view of the dumpster behind the building where that crazy hobo lives. I was unable to save any money, the government was after me because I haven't been paying the taxes and now I've lost my inspiration. I've never even sold a painting.

Do you know what I live on? Ramon noodle soup and saltine crackers. That's all I can afford.

If I could find another job maybe things would be okay. It'd be back to the way things were. The only problem is this damn economy and how it's affecting everyone; the way it makes all the gas prices rise, the stock market fall, and how bankruptcy is more common than McDonald's. The companies can't even afford new employees let alone provide good health care. But today you just can't survive without a good income.

I have no idea how that hobo does it.

Everyday I search through the ads in the newspaper in the hopes of finding something, anything to do. I'd be a plummer if I had to be! Other than that there's nothing and that sucks.

I was lying in the midst of my horrible messy apartment in the one place I actually kept clean, a small patch of fake hard wood floor near my mattress that I used as my bed. Today's paper was draped over my face and my limbs were stretched out in the starting position for making a snow angel. My window was open and I could hear the hobo rummaging through the dumpster and a siren in the background. Typical city sounds. He coughed a few rough coughs and then I heard him plop down on his cardboard bed, probably to take a nap. I was surprised I could hear this, considering the damage to my right ear.

I opened my eyes so I was staring at a super close up of an ad for free kittens, the late afternoon sun showing through the cheap paper. I never turned on the lights.

Just then my cell phone rang. I pealed the paper off may face, stood up and walked over to the folding table in my kitchen across the room, stepping over several piles of close on the way.

"Now just who could that be trying to run up my cell phone bill?" I thought to myself as I picked the screaming phone off the table and sat down on the only chair I own. It was Jill.

"Yes, Jill?" I answered it, holding the phone up to my good ear.

"I was just calling to see how you were doing." she explained in her normal, sweet little sister voice. She said the same thing every time she called. _Every _time.

"I'm a little bitter, same as always."

"Claire," I could imagine her frowning. "You're such a downer, it's hard to deal with sometimes!" Jill exclaimed. I could hear a chicken clucking in the background and I vaguely wondered how her farm was. Last time she called it was to tell me how she worked so hard to get this barn built and then it collapsed after a bad storm. To me it seemed a little funny. Picture a big wooden barn caving in, boards flying this way and that, cows mooing in agony as it crushes them into black and white pancakes. I had tried to paint that, but it turned out horrible.

"Yeah." I said, leaning back in my chair and picking at my thumbnail. "What's black and white, but red all over?"

"What?" she responded, annoyed.

"Your cows after that barn fell on them." I joked darkly.

"Why do you have to be so mean?" Jill raised her voice.

"I don't really know why!" I laughed.

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The next day I found myself asleep with my feet on my pillow and my head at the opposite side of the mattress. The sun was high in the sky indicating that it was around noon but I didn't really feel like getting up so I just lazed there for a while.

It was quite peaceful, actually. I folded my arms behind my head and stared at the water stained ceiling, thinking about some paintings of mine.

There was this one I did of my sister's feet. She had sent me a picture of her feet entitled, "My New Birks" where she had her toenails painted red and was wearing a shiny new pair of leather Birkenstocks. They were brown with gold buckles on the two straps. After I painted it I hung the canvas above my mini refrigerator, thinking it would stand out against my messy kitchen decor.

Another piece of artwork I did was an unfinished picture of a pigeon that landed on my windowsill. It was all fluffed up and kept ruffling its feathers, clearly uncomfortable in the cold autumn air. I drew it with a ballpoint pen on the back of the power bill I got in the mail that day, then later transferred it to the wall above my mattress. I was all out of paper.

The last painting I've done was of an empty mug of coffee that someone left on a table in the coffee shop I just so happened to be sitting in. It looked so perfect and ordinary just sitting there, waiting to be picked up and carried to a sink where someone would wash it. There was pink lipstick on the rim about an inch away from the handle and coffee grounds in the bottom, turning the white inside brown. There was a wrinkled napkin beside it covered in cookie crumbs and more of that bright pink make-up. I had told the manager of the place not to clean it up so when I came back with my sketchpad I would be able to draw it. That painting was never hung up. I've been trying to sell it for a while now.

Suddenly I heard a loud knock on my door that made me jump. "Claire! Get up off your ass and get your fucking mail!" yelled the girl who lives next to me, making the r in my name last two beats to long. I immediately got up and hurried out of my apartment to do what she said. If I didn't she'd break into my mailbox, take all of my valued letters and flush them down her toilet just to irritate me.

I jumped down the long flight of stairs, two at a time, and slid into the lobby, almost falling on my ass. I was still in my pajamas but I didn't care if anyone saw, they're just a pair of over sized sweatpants, the drawstrings pulled as tight as possible, and an over sized T-shirt.

I walked over to the row of mailboxes that looked more like locked filing cabinets and took my key off of the chain I kept around my neck so I wouldn't lose it, and opened mine. I pulled out a few envelopes and a newspaper, skimmed through the front page then headed back upstairs.

"What's going on in the world?" I asked no one in particular as I walked into my apartment. I threw all of the bills on a little table I kept by the door, landing with a plop on top of another stack of papers that I'll probably never read. I pulled out my chair in the kitchen, sat down and started to read through the ad section in the paper. Today everything was colorful due to the fact that it was Sunday.

There were no jobs in my range of skill, just more free kittens. But then I came across a small rectangular picture of a farmhouse with a cow standing in front of it. If this was for a free cow, I'm going to scream.

I read the short blurb underneath it.

_Sick of the city? Want a change of scenery? How about living the sweet life of a farmer? Raise cows, sheep, chickens and more! Here in Mineral Town you'll be able to relax and watch the clouds go by._

_For more information contact MT Relater at_

_1800-555-5555_

I briefly wondered why I hadn't seen this ad before as I reached for my cell phone that was sitting on the folding table in front of me. This was what my sister and my brother and all of my cousins did, so it had to be easy, right? I bet it'll earn me some quick cash.

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**What did you think? I personally think that it's better than the old version, but feel free to compare.**

**Review please!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Painting Lessons- the rewrite**

**a Graire story**

**Chapter Two: I See You Believed That Cheesy Advertisement**

My first reaction to what I saw before me was shock, and only after my jaw dropped and my suitcase slipped out of my hand did I start to smile. That little upward curve of my lips turned into a cheeky grin. Then, clutching my belly and almost falling down, I started to laugh. I don't even know what was so damn funny, it must have just been the whole idea of that stupid relater tricking me. The irony of this was killing me!

Last week I made arrangements with this guy, Zach to ship me here to Mineral Town. He drove me himself on his own little boat, and it took at least all night. I even managed to puke all over his when we finally pulled up to the dock, I realized that I had no idea where I was going. I wondered around the beach for a half an hour before I found these stairs that led to the town square, fortunately having a map on the bulletin board.

All the roads in this town were apparently brick and I was tripping over loose ones for two hours before I came to a fork in the road. They also didn't have cars here, so I couldn't even use my girlish charm to get a ride. I had looked down to the left, the way the map said to go, but couldn't see anything. I thought to myself, "This is really gonna suck ass when I need something from in town." By the looks of that map, most of the stores were in the upper half of the village. I had just passed what looked like a blacksmith shop and two farms a while back.

The total amount of time it took to get here was a night and half a day. And now that I was finally done laughing, I slowly started to feel pissed off.

"Hello!" called a hoarse voice. A fat man in a red suit and top hat came into my vision, his thick graying mustache quivering over his thin chapped lips as he spoke. "Are you a tourist?"

"Um. . . Not really." I said, noticing how short and old the guy looked. "This relater guy told me I could have this place. He made it sound refreshing"

"MT Relater told you that you can live a refreshing farm life?" he repeated.

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"Your the new farmer?" he started laughing, big and deep from his head to his toes. "You've been tricked! Ha ha!"

What an asshole. "Yeah, I've realized that." I stated icily.

"This used to be a gorgeous farm, but not since the owner passed away! As you can see, no one's been taking care of it." the fat man bellowed.

"What the fuck!?" I yelled, clenching my tube of lard was really pissing me off. I felt like breaking something.

"Not many people want to work on the farm now, so they decided to make the advertisement more attractive. Every now and then people who have seen the ad come here. Just like yourself!" He just would NOT shut up! "But as soon as they see the farm they leave. Just like that. It's been a while since the last one, though."

"You annoying bastard! Just shut up!"

"I see you believed that cheese advertisement." he chuckled. I clenched my fists tighter until my knuckles turned white and then decked him right in his fat, skin cancery face. The moron stumbled back and fell on his wide ass, stirring up some dust in the dead wintery grass. He covered his face with a dirty paw and gasped at the blood dripping from his nose.

"Look here, mister. I am goddess damn tired of idiots like you trying to trick me! You have no idea what hell I've been through just to get here! I am out of fucking money and have no where else to go! Now get up off your lard ass and fix this shit!"

The man let out a little wine, collected his top hat and slowly stood up. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry! Just. . . Please don't hit me again!" Was he actually afraid of me?

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After the deal binding hand shake Mayor Thomas (MT Relater) and I made, I stepped into my "new" farmhouse (shack.) It was grody, yet quaint. There was only one rectangular room, cabin-like with rough wooden floors and walls. The faint sent of mildew lingered in the stale air, and cobwebs were everywhere.

On the right side of the room sat an old bed. I carefully walked over to it, the floor boards creaking eerily under my weight. An ancient moth-eaten quilt was lazily spread out over the mattress. It really didn't look like I wanted to sleep on it. Nevertheless, I sat down on it, the pitiful sound of the rusted springs sighing and moaning as they were slowly compressed. It reminded me of the snake with the back trouble from Disney's Jungle Book movie.

Fresh dust stiring in the air, I fell back on the bed and closed my eyes with a short peaceful sleep consuming me.

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**I know it's been like forever, but the lack of reviews wasn't really motavating. Thanks to the one person who did!**

**This is short, I know, but I'm lazy.**

**Review and I'll be your best friend! Not really, but still.**


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